


every tattoo is another new scar,

by MetaAllu



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Rough Sex, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaAllu/pseuds/MetaAllu
Summary: He’s about to crawl under the blankets and curl back up for more sleep when Brian says, without looking up from his phone, “I could have sworn we talked about your lying, specifically how you were going to be more honest with me.”Robert swallows slowly.  There is a dangerous gleam in Brian’s eye when he looks up.





	every tattoo is another new scar,

**Author's Note:**

> based off an rp. why did this take me like a week to write?
> 
> IMPORTANT: consent is fully given here. they have previously established signals, and brian is only pushing robert past his limits with his full consent even if it is non-verbal.

Robert wakes up feeling disoriented.  The ceiling above him is unfamiliar, and for a long moment he wonders if he got drunk and went home with someone, but he can’t remember going home with someone, can’t even remember going out for drinks.  He spends a few long moments squinting up at the ceiling, and then he rolls onto his side, propping up onto his elbow and reaching for his phone, which sits innocuously on the unfamiliar bedside table.  He checks the time—7 am—and then tries to figure out what the fuck could possibly wake him up at this hour.

The bed shifts behind him, and then an arm slides around him, pulling him back.  It’s not until he breathes in the smell of Brian’s deodorant that he remembers where he is.  Warm, nibbling kisses make their way across his shoulder, and then Brian kisses his spine and throat.  He is lazy, affectionate, and Robert groans and immediately tries to squirm away, feeling his cheeks grow pink.

Brian grunts and shifts, palm spreading flat on his chest.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asks, and his voice is low, sleep rough and delicious.  Robert breathes in and then out through his nose while more kisses trail over his skin.  “Didn’t think you’d be so eager to get out of bed this early.”

“I need to piss,” Robert lies, and Brian  _ knows  _ it’s a lie, but he still relinquishes his hold and rolls onto his back.  Robert squirms out from under the sheets and then walks into the en-suite bathroom, glad to not have to risk scarring Daisy for life due to his reluctance to put on pants.  He doesn’t actually know where his pants are.  The night before is a bit of a hazy blur of desire and hands, and Brian’s voice in his ear, his hand in his hair—

Robert blinks away the thoughts.  He actually does piss since he’s up anyway, gets himself some water, and then steps out.  Brian has clearly been waiting for him.  He’s lying on his back, one arm behind his head, scrolling through what is probably email on his phone.  Robert closes the bathroom door behind him and Brian looks up expectantly, clearly waiting for Robert to get back into bed.  It’s 7 am, so he does.

He’s about to crawl under the blankets and curl back up for more sleep when Brian says, without looking up from his phone, “I could have sworn we talked about your lying, specifically how you were going to be more honest with me.”

Robert swallows slowly.  There is a dangerous gleam in Brian’s eye when he looks up.

“I needed to piss,” he defends himself.  Patiently, Brian sets his phone to the side.  Robert considers that he could probably shut this conversation down, find some reason to leave, but Brian looks over at him again, and he is forced to reconcile with the fact that he doesn’t want to leave, that even though he could, he is going to stay right where he is unless Brian tells him otherwise.

“Sure,” Brian agrees.  His tone is even and amicable.  “But that’s not why you got up.”

Robert opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again.  He squirms under Brian’s gaze, discomfort rising up all over again.  Brian gives a knowing hum and sits up, only to roll to loom over Robert, reaching one broad thumb to run over his bottom lip.

“You embarrassed?” he asks, leans down to leave slow bites over Robert’s neck.  “What is it?  Is it waking up in my bed?  Falling asleep in my bed?  Or are you thinking about last night?  You were awful pretty.  I can imagine that would embarrass you.”

Robert blinks.  The night before is a blur, honestly.  He can’t remember much, bits and pieces, a vague picture of what they got up to like one of those scramble puzzles where you have to move the pieces around until it makes an image, but one of the corners is always missing.  His face gets hot.  He must have lost control of himself again, let himself—

The gleam in Brian’s eye confirms his thoughts, and he can feel a brief moment of panic.  He’s created a standard for himself over the years, a very specific way that he does things, and his domineering, standoffish personality has done wonders towards making sure that people meet him, and have a certain image of him as a person.

Brian doesn’t give a shit about that.  Brian saw it as a challenge, and when Robert puffed himself up, Brian had done it right back.  There’s only been a handful of people in Robert’s life who have done that, and the last person who had had been Joseph.  Half the neighbourhood knows how  _ that  _ went.

So it’s reasonable that Robert’s instinct is to try and keep his image as much in tact as possible.  Brian doesn’t seem to give a shit about that, either.

Brian’s thumb presses against his lips the next time it passes over them, and Robert open his mouth a little, just enough for Brian to press the pad of his thumb to the flat of his tongue.  Silent, Robert swallows when his mouth waters in response.

“You’re pretty whimpering for cock,” Brian says, beard brushing against Robert’s skin, whispering hot right into his ear.  “Just thinking about it makes me wanna make you do it again.  Too sore?”

The filth coming out of Brian’s mouth is enough to make him red to his ears.  His instant urge is to get up and find his clothes, try and regain some of his dignity.  Brian must see something in his eyes because he goes from hovering above him to pressing his weight down onto him, effectively trapping him.  Patiently, Brian dots more kisses to his collarbones.  Robert shakes his head.

“No?” Brian murmurs.  “No what?”

“No, not too sore.”

It’s quiet, and Robert can’t meet his eyes, but a pleased rumble comes from Brian’s throat.

“That’s what I thought.”

Robert’s about half a decade too old to keep up with Brian the way he would have when he was younger.  Fucking like rabbits all night long isn’t an option for him, but Brian is nothing if not resourceful.  With a lazy grin, Brian drags his mouth over Robert’s before grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head.

“Stay,” he says softly, then sits up and reaches over for one of the drawers in the bedside table.  He pulls it open, shuffling through it for a few moments, then goes back to kissing Robert before he can register what it is Brian’s grabbed, although he does have a theory.

The room falls quiet other than their kissing, the occasional gasps for breath, and it makes the popping cap of lube feel obscenely loud.  Brian shifts a little, and the sound of the sheets seem loud, too.  One of his hands travels down to grab Robert’s thigh, hitching his leg up.  Brian smooths his hand down to Robert’s calf and then travels slowly back up.  Lazily, his fingers dance over the lines of Robert’s stomach, then up to run over one of his nipples where it stays for what feels like ages.  He kisses him harder, keeps going until his nipple is hard and a little aching, then switches to the other one.

 

By the time finally wanders away, Robert’s hair is plastered to his face and he’s so hard he’s leaking, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Brian at all. Instead he shifts his weight for a brief moment, then shifts back, and Robert can feel a fingertip sliding lazily around his hole, getting it slick with lube.  He barely hears the whining sound that he makes when Brian finally pushes his finger in, though the world ‘finally’ is a little absurd.  It’s not as if Brian is going to give him any relief any time soon.

 

Still, he says “Please,” quiet and thick with want, and Brian hums into his mouth, tongue sliding lazily against his.  The finger moves inside of him lazily, stretching with patience.  He opens up easily, body still ready and eager for it, and before long, Brian has a second finger inside of him.  He growls, seeming pleased with how fucking easy it is to slide into him.

 

“That’s it,” Brian says, half into his mouth.  “Good boy.  Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”  He takes his sweet goddamn time, teasing, exploring, and with each new push of his fingers in, Robert gets tenser, anticipates more, but he still doesn’t see it coming, still moans loud and eager when Brian finally rubs his fingers slow and lazy over his prostate.

 

“Oh, god,” Robert gasps, fisting his hand in Brian’s hair blindly.  Brian’s fingers keep rubbing, moving in slow circles, a steady pressure on his prostate.  Brian’s mouth drifts over Robert’s, then his jaw and neck.  He nibbles his way along Robert’s aorta, fingers still steady inside him.  He kisses along Robert’s adam’s  apple as it bobs and then slides further down before sliding over one of his already-sensitive nipples.  The slow slide of lips combined with the torturous persistent press of fingers inside of him is enough to bring Robert’s spine slightly up off the bed, paired with a harsh exhale.

 

Brian looks up at him through half open eyes, his cheeks with colour.  With his eyes locked on Robert’s, he lets his tongue slide out, dragging slowly over one hard nipple.  Robert hisses through his teeth, shifting fitfully as Brian does it again before kissing to the other one to repeat the process.

 

His hips jerk, pushing up and looking for friction, but Brian’s free hand slides down and presses him down by the hip.

 

“None of that,” he almost coos.  He’s not strong enough to hold him down with a hand alone, but Robert goes still anyway other than his his twitching with every fresh circle of the fingers on his prostate.  Satisfied, Brian leaves a few lazy kisses on his collarbone before heading down again.

 

“Fuck, please,” Robert says.  He squirms, unsure if he wants more or if he wants Brian to stop.  He’s coated in a thin sheen of sweat, getting the sheets damp by now, but whatever it is he’s asking for, Brian doesn’t heed him.  He has his own agenda.

 

Once he’s sure Robert won’t try and arch up again, he slides his hand down to grab Robert’s thigh and pull his legs further apart.  His lips curve up into a wicked grin as he leaves a few lazy kisses on the meat of Robert’s inner thigh.

 

“Robert,” he murmurs.  “You’re doing so good.  Can you do more for me?  Or do you want me to fuck you now?”

 

The thigh in Brian’s broad hand shakes—the fingers inside of him are still moving—and Robert makes a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a sob.

 

“Yeah?” Brian starts to pull his fingers out but Robert pushes his hips forward, looking at him with blown out eyes, pupils so dark Brian can barely tell them apart from the iris.  Brian chuckles, kissing a lazy line over Robert’s thigh before hauling him closer and tossing Robert’s leg over his shoulder.  He grinds his fingers in harder and Robert’s throat works, caught on another sob that comes out of him in bits and pieces as Brian keep grinding his fingers into him, wringing him out until he physically pushes himself away.

 

Something inside of Brian goes dark, like a switch inside of him.  He wraps a hand around Robert’s ankle.

 

“Robert,” he says, tone carefully kept even, and then he waits until Robert is looking him in the eyes.  “Nod for me if you can still understand me.” Robert nods.  “Good.” Brian’s thumb goes in slow circles on Robert’s achilles tendon.  “Now tell me to stop.  Shake your head no.”

 

There is a long moment where they sit looking at each other.  Robert doesn’t shake his head no.  Logically, Brian knows that Robert physically moved away, and that that was probably because he couldn’t take any more stimulation; but he also knows that Robert is perfectly capable of saying no.  If he doesn’t want it, especially when directly offered an out, he will take it.

 

A growl comes from somewhere inside of him and then he reaches for the lube again, fumbling mindlessly for a condom while he leans down to kiss Robert, slowly sliding his fingers out.

 

“God, baby,” he says, voice so gruff it’s barely words.  “So good for me.  Just gonna let me use you?  Let me wring you out?” Robert’s reply is to wrap the leg previously over his shoulder around his waist, trying to pull him in even as his muscles tremble uselessly.

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Brian snarls and then he grabs onto that trembling thigh and pushes into Robert’s over-sensitive hole.  The muscles in his hand go tense and suddenly Robert’s hand are on his shoulders, his back, nails digging in.  Every move he makes seems like it’s too much.  Brian can feel Robert fighting the urge to push away.  He physically digs in with nails and heels even as his upper body twists, face and ears red, chest heaving.

 

In some gesture that is either mercy or more of that dark urge to push Robert’s limits, Brian picks up the pace, going fast enough that he  _ does  _ have to hold Robert down.  It takes a few quick strokes of Robert’s dripping cock to have him cumming, more sounds which are definitely sobs now eking out of him as Brian wrings an orgasm from him, following soon after.

 

It takes a long moment before Brian can move.  He rolls onto his back, and then pulls Robert on top of him, running his fingers through his hair and kissing his face.

 

“You were so good for me, baby,” he murmurs as Robert curls in closer, out of breath, red and shaking.  “God, you were so good.” He dots more kisses all over Robert, one broad hand rubbing his shoulders.

 

“I’ll give you a few minutes, but then we’re taking a bath.”

 

Robert grunts, and he doesn’t say anything, but he does curl in a little closer and lets out a slow breath of satisfaction.

 

“Breakfast,” he says after a few minutes.

 

“Bath first,” Brian counters.  “Then whatever you want.”

 

Robert rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t protest, and when Brian nudges him out of bed a few minutes later, he goes.


End file.
